


Turn Around Trick

by pierrot



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-17 14:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8147176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pierrot/pseuds/pierrot
Summary: There’s a man who sits on a bench in the park and Jun passes him every morning on his way to work.





	

There’s a man who sits on a bench in the park with an acoustic guitar propped up beside him and a glass jar on the ground by his feet. Jun passes him every morning on his way to work, but he’s yet to hear him play anything. Sometimes, he’ll hold the guitar in his lap, cradling it lightly as if he’s ready to strum a chord at any moment except that his fingers never move to touch the strings. Most of the time he just sits curled up on the bench, head bent over a blue Nintendo DS.

One morning, the guitar is gone, and the man has moved to sit behind a small folding table just beyond his usual bench. There’s a sign taped to the front, words printed across in thick, black marker. Jun finds himself moving closer to read them as he walks past.

**MAGIC TRICKS — ¥300.**

He doesn’t realise how much he’s slowed his footsteps until he looks up and sees the man staring directly at him, eyes shining with reflected bright light. It seems rude now to turn away, so Jun changes path and walks up to the table. There’s a pack of cards sitting on the surface next to the same glass jar he always has; empty this morning as well.

“You don’t have your guitar today,” says Jun as he stops in front of the table.

The man looks up at him from his seat, squinting into the sun, and Jun can see directly up his button nose.

“Thought I’d try something more profitable.”

Jun quirks an eyebrow. “Don’t you have to actually perform to get money from busking? I never saw you play.”

He receives an unconcerned shrug in response. “I didn’t really see the appeal if I wasn’t getting paid first. That’s why I decided to do this instead.”

Jun frowns. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” he says slowly. “I think you can only ask for money up-front if you’re doing something like caricatures, or fortune telling.”

“Hm. Did you just stop by to criticise my business practices or would you like to see me do something?”

Jun checks his watch. He’s going to be late, but he feels obligated to stay now. He pulls his wallet out from his back pocket and finds enough coins there to put into the jar.

The man smiles and picks up the cards. He shuffles the deck a few times and deftly fans them out in one hand, holding them towards Jun.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask me to ‘pick a card’ or something?”

“You seem to know how this should work.”

Jun frowns again and reaches out to take a card from the centre.

“Do you need me to tell you what to do next? You look at the card and—”

“I got it, thanks.” Jun looks at the card, the queen of spades, and slides it back into the deck.

He’s not expecting much and he’s unsurprised when the man presents him the wrong card. But then, he slides the card halfway into the closed deck and before Jun can even figure out what he’s doing, he flips the card back out, holding it up to Jun with a small smile. It’s the queen of spades.

“Impressed?”

Jun nods grudgingly. The man places the cards back down in a neat pile on the table and picks up the jar, holding it out to Jun.

“I already gave you the three hundred yen.”

“A tip for your appreciation.”

“It says ‘magic _tricks_ ’ on your sign. Plural. You only showed me one.”

The man shrugs and puts the jar back on the table. “Fine. We’ll call it even for today.”

Jun stares at him. The man isn’t looking at Jun anymore, head down as he picks the cards back up and toys with them in his fingers. Jun remembers that he’s already running late and turns to leave, breaking into a brisk pace as he walks away. He thinks he hears a small murmur of farewell following him, but he doesn’t turn back around to check.

\----

He doesn’t stop by the man’s table again that week, but Jun still always walks past him, giving him a brief nod when their eyes happen to meet. It happens more often than not, as if the man can tell when Jun is there and is able to look up in time to catch Jun’s brief glances over.

On the Friday morning, he’s not alone. There’s a tall man standing next to him, with light hair sticking out from under a cap and a mask pushed down the bottom of his face. His smile is wide as he talks, radiating a certain kind of attractive energy that draws notice even from afar. Jun walks a little closer and the tall man’s voice is loud enough for him to catch a name. _Nino_.

With a name to match the face, Jun finds himself thinking about the man more. He sits in his office on Saturday, listening to the rain fall outside and wonders if Nino is still out there in the park. If he has somewhere he can sit under shelter or if he just keeps his table in the same spot, getting drenched by the storm. Maybe he doesn’t go to the park on weekends at all. Jun never does, taking a different route on the Saturdays he works for the sake of breakfast with a friend, so he wouldn’t know.

He picks up his umbrella on the Sunday afternoon and walks out of his apartment into the pouring rain before he feels foolish and heads back inside.

\----

The rain continues into the next week. Jun walks slower than he should, peering out from under his umbrella to look for Nino. There’s no sign of him anywhere. He ends up leaving home a little earlier than usual on the Wednesday, cutting his morning shower short, so he can walk the full circle around the park. Just in case. There’s a glimpse of unruly black hair poking out from under an umbrella and Jun quickens his stride to reach its owner before he can disappear.

It’s not Nino. He apologises to the stranger for the confusion and turns around for work with a sigh.

\----

By the following Monday, the sun has returned and so has Nino. He’s moved his table to the other side of the park and there’s a new piece of cardboard tacked onto the bottom of his old sign.

**FORTUNE TELLING— ¥500.**

Jun left his apartment a few minutes early again this morning, despite not seeing Nino all week, and it means he has time to make a detour to Nino’s table. He can’t quite hide an amused smile on his face as he approaches it.

“So you’re telling fortunes as well now?” he says by way of greeting.

Nino glances at him briefly before closing his DS and putting it aside. “Thought I’d take your advice.”

Jun’s brow furrows slightly. “I didn’t tell you to start scamming people with a phony fortune teller routine. No one’s going to give you money if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“They will. It’s not a scam.” A small, conspiratorial smile curls onto his lips as he leans forward in his chair, eyes lifting to meet Jun’s properly. “I’m psychic.”

Caught by the sharp glint of Nino’s stare, Jun can almost believe him for a moment. But then Nino’s upper lip twitches, smile widening slightly, and the spell is broken. Jun scoffs.

“Don’t believe me?” Nino says. “I can prove it to you.”

“Let me guess… you’ll show me your amazing psychic abilities if I give you five hundred yen for your trouble?”

Nino grins. “Seems like you have some psychic potential of your own.”

It’s a chance for Jun to use Nino’s name and show him just how _psychic_ he is, but he doesn’t. That would only lead to questions about how it is he knows of it and Jun already feels like a bit of a stalker as it is.

Nino gestures at the empty chair set up beside him, already assuming that Jun will agree to fork over the cash. He’s not wrong. Jun takes a seat with a slow show of reluctant resignation and pulls out his wallet.

“You see?” says Nino when he takes the note Jun offers him. “I told you people would pay. That’s one psychic point for me already.”

Jun rolls his eyes. “Am I supposed to be keeping score?”

“You can if you like.”

Nino places the note he received from Jun into the empty jar in front of him. It unfurls so that the paper sticks to the glass; a lonely entity somehow seeming more pathetic than when there was nothing there at all. Jun has to wonder again whether Nino actually makes any money from sitting in the park every day.

“How are you going to do this?” he asks Nino. “Horoscopes? Tarot cards?”

“No.”

Jun’s eyes are focused completely on Nino’s face, so he misses seeing his arm slip under the table until cold fingers take hold of Jun’s right hand and lifts it up where Nino can see it.

“I’m going to read your palm,” he says as he uncurls Jun’s bent fingers.

It’s strange and a little uncomfortable to suddenly have a near-stranger holding his hand. Jun feels unreasonably stiff, but he can’t relax with the way that Nino’s fingers trace lines across his palm. He’s fairly certain that palm reading is not supposed to have this much touching.

Nino’s face is drawn in concentration as he makes his examination, hair falling over his eyes. “Hmm,” he murmurs, thumb pressing into Jun’s skin. “Doesn’t look too good.” He glances up suddenly from under his fringe and Jun’s mouth turns dry. Nino smiles.

“But there’s always a way to improve one’s fortune,” he says, and there’s a hint of a tease in his eyes. “Like selfless acts of charity. Your palm tells me that you’ve recently met someone who will be very important to your future. I recommend treating them generously.”

The tension in Jun’s body dissipates with the fresh arrival of vague annoyance. “Of course,” he says drily, pulling away his hand from Nino’s grasp.

Nino laughs. “Sorry, sorry. It’s too easy.” He settles himself and looks at Jun with a more serious expression. “Do you want me to tell you something real?”

“Something real?” Jun asks, eyes narrowed.

“I know you hate your job.”

He blinks. “You’re just guessing anything now.”

“No. I know.” Nino shrugs. “Otherwise, why else would you still be sitting here wasting your time with me when you’re probably going to be late for work?”

That startles Jun upright and he checks his watch, confirming that he indeed will be late if he sits there any longer. If Nino hadn’t said anything, he doubts he would have even realised, and that’s a problem. Jun usually prides himself on his punctuality.

He stands up to leave, but can’t help wasting another precious few seconds by shooting some parting words at Nino. “You still didn’t prove anything.”

Nino just responds with another irritating smirk. “I know more than you give me credit for, Matsumoto Jun.”

Jun stills. “How—”

“You’re going to be late, remember? No time to waste on questions that I might not answer so easily—you’ll just have wait for the next time we meet to interrogate me. Don’t worry, I’ll still be here.”

\----

The truth is, Jun does hate his job. It’s not something he admits readily to many of his friends—it feels tacky to gripe when most of them either work in the same field or earn far less than him. The few times he has shown up to drinks with a friend boiling over with enough exhausted frustration to unload a stream of complaints, he’s received detached sympathy and the inevitable suggestion that he should quit if it’s really so difficult.

Jun doesn’t plan to quit when he has no idea of what else he would do, so he’s learned to keep more quiet.

It hasn’t always been this way. At first, Jun felt excited to finally put the tiresome years of studying impossibly thick law textbooks to practical use, and honoured that such a prestigious firm would hire him from the pool competitive grads. Long hours and grunt work had simply been challenges to overcome, and Jun always likes when he can prove himself worthy. But intellectual property litigation is… boring. He now knows more about pharmaceutical products and chemical compounds than he ever thought he’d have to when he left high school chemistry behind.

His current boss is barely older than him, and that stings. Sakurai Sho is the kind of person who travelled up the ladder of top schools and fast promotions, transferring into a partner role at Jun’s firm while Jun remains stuck as an associate. He likes to call Jun into his office for “pep talks” that mostly consist of him asking Jun if he’s _really_ satisfied with his work and doesn’t he think he can try a bit harder?

Jun mostly just wants to tell Sakurai that his suits are the wrong cut and fit for his frame and that he should consider keeping breath mints on hand for when he drinks his morning coffee.

Work becomes even more difficult to bear when Jun can’t stop obsessing over Nino knowing his name. On days when there are no work-related lunches for Jun to attend, he usually just eats in his office, but today he tells one of the receptionists to hold his calls and leaves for the park. Sakurai always takes his lunches outside of the office, so Jun doesn’t see why he can’t also for once.

It’s a relief when he reaches the park and sees Nino still in the same spot, surprisingly not alone this time. Jun’s eyesight is poor even with glasses, but he’s spent enough mornings looking out for Nino to be able to recognise his shape from afar.

Unfortunately, his vision is not good enough to realise that the person Nino is with is _Sakurai Sho_ of all people until he’s almost reached them.

Jun stops in his tracks, completely bewildered and considering turning around, but Nino has already spotted him. His questioning head tilt is enough to cause Sakurai to turn around and catch sight of Jun, so Jun has no choice but to continue walking over to the table.

“Sakurai,” he says once he’s standing before the pair.

“Matsumoto.” Sakurai’s face shows confusion, eyebrows drawn together, but Jun thinks he’s the one who should be feeling most surprised.

Nino appears anything but. “Jun!” he says happily, as if they’re old friends. “You came back so soon. This morning wasn’t enough?”

Sakurai looks between them, eyes widening. “Matsumoto… please don’t tell me you’re the one Nino tricked with this fake fortune telling business.”

“Hey, there’s no tricks! I’m running a legitimate operation here.”

Even as he says it, Nino can’t help himself from laughing.

Jun shifts awkwardly where he stands, cheeks warming. He decides it’s best to change the subject. “I didn’t realise you two knew each other.”

“Why would you?” replies Nino. He glances over at Sakurai. “Hey, now that you’re here, Sho, I can add another special skill to my repertoire. You know, the thing from uni. I think maybe Jun would appreciate getting to see it after this morning.”

Sakurai appears to understand what Nino is suggesting based on the imploring look he shoots his way. “Nino…”

His plea is ignored as Nino gets up from his chair and shuffles over to stand behind him, placing his hands on Sakurai’s shoulders. “Come on, it’s been a while.” Jun can see Nino’s fingers squeeze tightly for a brief second and then Sakurai relaxes, expression resigned.

Nino’s eyes turn to Jun. “I’m going to show you something amazing.”

Jun might actually believe him.

Nino leans down, face hovering next to Sakurai’s and says, “Do you believe in hypnotism?”

“Well,” Sakurai says, “not really, I mean—”

A snap of Nino’s fingers has Sakurai cutting himself off mid-sentence, eyes falling shut and body slumping back into his chair. It’s obviously an engineered act and Jun is completely bewildered.

“Is there something you want to see Sho do?” Nino asks Jun. “My hypnotism is very powerful—not much is off limits.”

It’s a difficult question. Being witness to this strange humiliation that his boss is willingly subjecting himself to is one thing; taking an active role is another. But Jun is tempted. There’s a legend that has spread between the receptionists at work, one that Jun has always had trouble believing, and now he has this unusual chance to find out for himself.

“Does he really have a navel piercing?”

There’s a noticeable twitch to Sakurai’s lips at the question, exposing the pretense of his supposed deep sleep.

Nino snorts. “You want to see?”

Jun recoils at the thought. “No, I just planned to ask. I really… don’t need to see anything.”

Sakurai is clearly struggling to hold back a laugh now.

“I can save you the trouble: he doesn’t.” Nino smiles slowly. “Not anymore, anyway.”

Just the image of Sakurai having once had the piercing is enough to make Jun’s brain short-circuit. “I think maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Don’t say that. Sho will be disappointed.”

Jun didn’t know it was possible for a person to look so exasperated while pretending to be asleep.

“Hey, if you really want to see something from our dear Sho’s wilder days, then I’ve got something good.” Nino tilts his head towards Sakurai’s ear, fingers running reassuringly over his shoulders. “When I snap my fingers, you’ll have the sudden urge to rap something.”

With that, there’s another, quick _snap_ , and Sakurai opens his eyes. Jun expects there to be some protest, or at least a moment of hesitation, but there is none; Sakurai actually _raps_. There’s a lot of grunting and _oh yeah uh huh yeahs_ , hands gesturing energetically in front of a surprisingly serious face. Jun doesn’t know how to react.

When he stops, Sakurai looks at Jun neutrally with no obvious trace of embarrassment despite Nino’s laughter. He blinks and smiles, as if nothing even happened. “We should probably go back to the office,” he says.

Speechless, Jun can do nothing but nod.

\----

“Sho thinks you have a lot of potential.”

Jun looks up at Nino with a frown. It’s the day after their bizarre encounter with Sakurai, and Jun is back spending his lunch break with Nino. He knows that Sakurai is in court all day today, so he doesn’t have to worry about him stopping by this time.

It’s a fortunate occurence. There are still some answers that Jun wants from Nino.

“Is that how you knew my name? From Sakurai?”

Nino sniffs and picks a card out of the hand he’s holding, placing it on top of the pile on the table. The card tricks have been abandoned today for just a regular game—Two-Ten-Jack—that Nino suggested they play while Jun eats his lunch.

“No,” he says, taking a new card from the deck. “I read the name on the I.D. card inside your wallet that first time you stopped by my table. I made the connection later.”

Jun frowns at his cards. He’s losing, but there’s not much he can do about it now. “How do you know Sakurai thinks I have potential? I’m certain he doesn’t like me much.”

“What’s with that scary expression? How do you expect to swindle anyone if you can’t keep your true feelings off your face?”

“I don’t swindle anyone. Pretty sure that’s just you.”

Nino laughs. “See, now you sound just like Sho.” Jun can’t keep from looking mildly horrified at the thought and Nino laughs again. “Sho can seem like a bit of a stick-in-the-mud but he’s a good person.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

He can feel Nino staring at him, not moving even though Jun just placed a card down. “It’s your turn,” Jun reminds him.

“You realise I’m definitely going to win, right?”

Jun grunts. “Game’s not over yet. Keep playing.”

\----

Jun expects Sakurai to be more awkward around him after the fake hypnotism act with Nino, but there’s no obvious change. Either he’s trying to act as if it wasn’t anything that unusual, or he really doesn’t feel any embarrassment over the whole show. It worries Jun slightly that he suspects it’s the latter.

He does call Jun into his office at the end of the week, after most of the other partners have left for the day. There’s a somewhat ominous look on his face and Jun feels a pang of dread creep into his chest. Perhaps the only reason Sakurai hasn’t shown any concern is because he already had plans to fire Jun.

“I wasn’t intending to talk to you about this yet,” Sakurai says once they’re both seated, “but as much as I trust Nino to keep my secrets, I can’t quite count on him not to drop some annoying hints that are likely to just confuse you.”

Jun frowns, unsure of where Sakurai is going with this.

“There are plans in motion to establish a new firm. One where I would be a managing partner.” He pauses for a moment, a small smile suddenly appearing on his face. “I want you to come with us when we make the move.”

It’s unlikely that Sakurai could have surprised Jun any more if he tried. Just the news that Sakurai wants to take charge of a new practice is enough to take in, but him asking Jun to join him is something he could never have predicted.

“I’m sure you have questions,” Sakurai says. “We can talk about salary—”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re a good lawyer. You work hard, you’ve built good relations with clients and you have integrity. I think you deserve partnership.”

Jun blinks slowly, processing the unexpected compliment. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

Sakurai laughs. “Honest. But no, I’ve never disliked you. I’m sorry if you felt that way.”

“So all of those times you criticised my work—”

“I think you’re a good lawyer, but I also think you can be better. You’re being wasted where you are now, which is why you should come with us. There’s a lot more you can do as a partner of a new firm and with all of the challenges that will come with that.”

It’s definitely an intriguing proposition. Risky, as well, but whatever Jun thinks about Sakurai, he doesn’t see him as the type to jump foolishly into a poorly planned venture likely to fail.

“I don’t want to be stuck working on IP cases.” Sho frowns and Jun jumps to amend his statement. “I’m okay with not being made a partner if it means I can do other things.”

The frown doesn’t quite lift from Sakurai’s face. “Most of your experience is in intellectual property. And your clients.” It’s not a flat rejection, at least.

“I’ve worked on other types of litigation before. It’s only been in recent years that the firm has limited what I handle.”

Sakurai sighs. “That sounds like them.” He pauses and just looks at Jun for a moment, quietly considering. “We’ll need you to still lead at least some of our cases on intellectual property, especially with any clients you manage to bring over. But you’ll get the chance to do other things as well. I’ll make sure of that. And I still want you as a partner.”

Jun nods slowly. Sakurai’s frown fades and is replaced by a softness that Jun wouldn’t have expected. He rises from his chair and walks around the table to lean against the front edge, right next to Jun.

“I’ll give you time to think it over. We can discuss the details later, but for now, I have somewhere to be, and I’m sure you’d like to get out of the office.” He extends a hand and Jun takes it, shaking hesitantly. “I think it will be a great opportunity for the both of us.”

There’s a sudden lightness in Jun’s chest. It’s hope, he realises.

\----

On their way out of the building, Sakurai invites him to drinks.

“We don’t have to talk any further about work,” he says as they wait for the elevators. “I’m actually supposed to meet Nino.”

Jun glances over at him. “The two of you really _are_ friends.”

“That surprises you?”

He shrugs. “I didn’t take you for the type to befriend strange people who hang out in the park.”

The elevators arrive and they enter. Sakurai presses the button for ground floor.

“Nino and I go way back,” he says once the doors are closed. “This whole park gig is just a recent distraction, I think. Sometimes Nino gets a bout of writer’s block and needs a bit of time to get his inspiration back.”

“Writer’s block?”

Sakurai looks at him. “You didn’t know?”

Jun licks his lips. “He hasn’t really told me much about himself,” he admits.

“Figures. Nino’s a songwriter. He composes for a bunch of different agencies—ballads are his specialty, but he dabbles in other genres when required. Or when the money is good, to be more precise. You’ve probably heard some of his songs on the radio.”

The elevator doors open and Jun pauses after he walks through them. Sakurai turns to look at him. “You coming?”

“Ah, no. You go ahead. I have some things I need to do at home.”

Sakurai nods. “Okay. Oh, hey, wait—I know that Nino’s supposed to be in the studio all of next week, so if you see him in the park, can you tell him off for me?”

Jun blinks. “Sure.”

\----

Jun’s favourite place to spend lazy Sunday afternoons is at a small bakery a few blocks from his apartment, nursing his inevitable hangover from the night before over hot, bitter coffee and sweet cake. It’s the only real time he gets to relax and he treasures the hours he spends there, always making wandering conversation with the bakery’s mild-mannered owner.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Ohno says after Jun tells him about Sakurai’s offer. Ohno isn’t much like any of Jun’s other friends but he’s easy to talk to, even when it’s mostly just Jun doing the talking. It’s why he’s telling Ohno about this first: he’s the type to simply listen without giving Jun any unsolicited advice or asking questions he’s not prepared to answer.

Jun tilts his head and takes a small sip of his ristretto, once again appreciating that Ohno chose to switch to using the beans that Jun recommended to him. Ristrettos aren’t a usual part of the bakery’s limited menu, but Ohno always makes them for Jun; just as there didn’t used to be a seat by the side counter until Jun started making his visits to the bakery a regular occurrence.

“I think it will be a positive change.” He mulls the thought around in his mouth with the remnants of coffee taste coating his tongue. “I’m not really happy where I am now.”

Ohno nods as he cleans the espresso machine. “Another coffee?”

“Not today.” Jun picks up his fork and takes a mouthful of tart. The fruit tastes fresh and sweet. “Water, though, would be good. Thank you.”

Ohno wanders off to find Jun a clean glass to fill with water. A customer enters the bakery and he’s waylaid as she asks him about the contents of seemingly every item in the display window. Jun can see Ohno growing impatient with the incessant questions, and he hides a small laugh into another bite of his tart.

Once she’s finally left, Ohno returns to his place near Jun. “What happened to that guy?” he says.

“What guy?”

“The one in the park. You talked about him a lot before.”

Jun blinks. “Did I?”

“He sounded interesting.”

Interesting is definitely a word for Nino. Mystifying is another. “He’s… still around. Turns out he’s friends with Sakurai, which is weird, to say the least.”

“Sakurai, your boss?”

“Yeah.” Jun looks down at his plate, holding mostly crumbs around small piece of tart. He pushes it away. “Sakurai says he won’t be at the park this week—he’s some big shot composer, can you believe?—so who knows whether I’ll actually see him again.”

When he looks up again, Ohno is staring at him with one of those meaningful expressions on his face.

“What?”

The bottom of Ohno’s mouth pushes up, chin jutting slightly, and he thinks for a moment before responding.

“Sometimes when I go fishing, I get really obsessed with the idea of catching a specific fish. I’ll spend hours out there hoping for it, but that doesn’t mean it will appear… I’ll catch other fish, just not the right one. I’ve learned over the years that the whole process of fishing is the really fun part, but, you know, sometimes I’ll still think to myself, _‘Ah, wouldn’t it be nice if I caught a tuna?’_.”

Jun frowns. “I never understand your fishing metaphors.”

Ohno smiles at him. “I’m saying you should come fishing with me sometime, Jun.”

\---

True to Sakurai’s word, Nino doesn’t show up in the park the following week. Or the week after. Jun starts to think he’ll never see Nino there again, but on the third Thursday, he’s back. There’s no table this time: Nino is perched on his old bench with his DS in hand and a wave for Jun when he spots him.

Jun thinks he can be late to work just this once.

“You’ve returned,” he says, standing in front of Nino.

In all the short time he’s known Nino, he’s never been too certain of what it is the other man is thinking at any given moment unless Nino wants him to know. There’s a shield over his eyes that stops Jun from gazing too deep.

Right now, he wishes he could break past it.

“Didn’t think I’d be back?”

“I don’t know.”

It feels uncomfortable to be towering over Nino, forcing him to look up at Jun, so he moves to take a seat on the bench next to him. Nino’s eyes follow him as he does.

“Sakurai told me that you’d be busy with work. He told me that you’re a songwriter; a good one.”

“Ah, that Sakurai. Always ruining my fun.”

Jun isn’t sure what “fun” Nino is referring to, but he thinks it’s better left unaddressed.

“So the guitar wasn’t just a prop,” Jun says. “You actually play. For your real job that doesn’t require you to sit here in the park every day.”

“I guess.” Jun can feel Nino shifting beside him, fidgety movements at the edges of his periphery. “Don’t you have to go to work?”

“Not yet.” The weeks that have passed without seeing Nino have allowed Jun plenty of time to think and plenty of time to grow impatient, and he won’t let Nino send him off until he’s found some clarity.

He looks at Nino directly and waits for him to look back.

“I’d like to hear you play sometime. You never did before.”

“Because no one gave me money to.”

“I will.”

Silence passes between them. Nino is good at the staring game.

“Come here on Saturday,” he says finally. “At midday. I’ll be there then.”

Jun nods, mouth stretching into a smile. It’s not one of the charming ones he uses with clients; it’s open and genuine, and he can see that Nino is taken off-guard by the sight, a hint of vulnerability cracking through his regard.

“I’ll anticipate it.”

\----

Jun arrives at the park on Saturday ten minutes early, even after taking a longer route than usual. He doesn’t expect Nino to be there already but he is; sitting on the bench with his guitar propped under his chin. There’s no wave or smile for Jun today, just a thoughtful stare that doesn’t budge as Jun approaches him.

Jun stops a foot away from Nino and says nothing. It means they just look at each other in silence for a little while, with consideration that crackles between them until Nino’s lips curl into an amused smile.

“I suppose I should play you something,” Nino says. “After all, that’s why you’re here, right?”

He moves his guitar into position and glances at Jun for a second before he starts to play. The chords are loud, energetic, and when his voice comes it’s just as loud, a simple tune that he sings at Jun with abandon.

_“Eyebrows thick as his wallet is plentiful, a cold face masking a heart so kind, he’s the man I met just a little while ago, the only trustworthy lawyer that you’ll ever find. His name is Ma-Ma-Ma-Ma-Matsumoto Jun. Woah-oah-oah-oah Matsumoto Jun.”_

With a last, echoing strum of a chord right on _“Jun”_ , Nino abruptly stops and looks at Jun with a strangely blank expression. They’ve managed to attract the curious stares of some passersby and Jun can feel his cheeks flushing.

“Thoughts?”

Jun just stares at him.

The seriousness disappears off Nino’s face all of a sudden and he’s laughing, head tilted back and mouth open. “You really must have broken the hearts of every poor soul who fell for you,” he says once he’s calmed down, still smiling.

A flicker of hurt passes through Jun's chest.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Nino blinks and tilts his head. “Sit down. It’s annoying to have to look up to you.” He shifts a little on the bench as Jun takes a seat so that they’re facing slightly.

“Are you going to play me something else?”

A few seconds pass before Nino responds. “Yes.” His head turns down when he next speaks, eyes on his fingers ghosting across the guitar strings. “It’s a little experimental.”

Jun says nothing further. He’s content to wait until Nino is ready.

The first notes come soft and hesitant until Nino finds his rhythm, building gradually into a strange melody not quite like anything Jun had been expecting. It’s rather captivating; but not as captivating as Nino’s face, so serious in concentration as he keeps his eyes on his guitar, a hint of pleasure softening his mouth.

And then Nino sings, really sings, and it’s nothing like the carefree warbling of his earlier song. His voice is raw and untrained, with a seeming lack of concern to where his notes finish, but there’s so much exposed emotion that shines through the sound like crystal and pierces Jun to his core. The lyrics are confusing to Jun—half rhymes wrapped in metaphors—but it’s the way Nino expresses them that matters.

He stops playing before the final line is sung. The sudden absence of backing instrumentation elevates the clarity of his voice, a punch to the gut, and Nino’s eyes are closed when the last echoes of sound pass through his lips.

Jun waits for them to open.

“You’re amazing.”

Nino pulls back slightly, mouth parting just a fraction. The surprise is gone just as soon as it arrived and he shrugs. “It won’t sell. That song. It’s not the kind of thing that the agencies I deal with look for.”

“But you wrote it anyway.”

“Yes.”

Jun nods slowly, gaze firm on Nino’s face. “Sakurai said you’ve been struggling with writing songs lately.”

“He says a lot of things.” Nino’s eyes move somewhere past Jun as he pauses, gazing towards the trees behind them. “It’s true, though. I was finding it hard to feel inspired by anything… until recently.”

With that, he looks at Jun again. There’s the slightest offer of meaning behind his guarded expression if Jun wants to take it.

Jun thinks he finally understands. His lips stretch wide across his face into a bright smile and soon enough Nino is smiling back at him, with a complete honesty that sends warmth fluttering under his skin.

“You know,” Nino says, “you did promise that you would pay me for my performance today.”

“I did.” Jun leans in a little closer. “But how about I offer you something better? Dinner, with me. I’ll pay.”

“Those are magic words.” Nino’s still smiling at him and there’s so little space between them now. “Do you think I could get a down payment first? Just so I know—”

Jun doesn’t let him finish.


End file.
